


God's Plan

by mskl



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Black Whale Arc, Complete, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskl/pseuds/mskl
Summary: “A number of the enemy were injured,” Kurapika said as the car sped along on the highway. “So they’ll stay put until backup arrives.” His hands tightened around the chains restraining the Spider leader.Kurapika felt the distinct watch of eyes on his skull and turned to look at the man next to him. “What are you looking at?”For just a split second, Kurapika could’ve sworn the man’s eyes widened in shock, but it quickly disappeared behind a thin facade of calm. “Nothing. I just didn’t think the chain-user would be a woman.”Kurapika stopped breathing.Or alternatively:Soulmate AU in which your soulmate's first words to you is tattooed on your hand but Kurapika really didn't need to get a mini-heart attack when he hears those words come out of the Spider Head's mouth.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Comments: 73
Kudos: 900





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The numbers are their ages (Chrollo on the left). 
> 
> Number of chapters may change, but only because I'm indecisive and I have organization issues.

**0, --**

In an alleyway of a polluted city, a baby’s cry rang out. 

Chrollo had been abandoned next to trash, hastily wrapped in a crude cloth, his mother’s desperate last words lingering in his premature ears. 

A sprawl of ink was written on the inside of Chrollo’s wrist but the letters were too small to make out yet.

* * *

**8, 0**

Kurapika’s birth was a joyous affair. His father had been pacing anxiously in front of their bedroom, waiting to hear that the baby was born and that his wife was going to be alright. 

Kurapika’s mother cried when she saw Kurapika’s full head of warm blond hair and his sharp brown eyes that flashed scarlet. 

“He looks just like me.”

No one paid attention to the blotchy black mark on the newborn’s wrist, a hint of who he will eventually meet and love. 

* * *

**14, 6**

“Soulmate?”

“Yes,” Pakunoda held up a small, decaying book and handed it Chrollo, who studied it curiously. “I found this with Machi earlier. It says that the little words on everyone’s hands are the first words your soulmate will say to you.”

“What’s a soulmate?” 

“Why don’t you read it and find out?” Machi quipped, appearing from a nearby corner. “I thought you liked books.”

“How would I know who my soulmate is?” Chrollo blinked at the words etched onto his wrist blankly. _What are you looking at?_ is such a common phrase that he could never be sure. 

Pakunoda narrowed her eyes at the ink on Chrollo’s hand and shook her head. “I’m not sure, but we’ll have to hope that your first words are more specific and your soulmate’s reaction gives it away.”

* * *

**20, 12**

Kurapika giggled and turned to Pairo. “I stole my dad’s dictionary.”

“But, why?” Pairo frowned at Kurapika’s uncontrollable giddiness. This probably wouldn’t end so well. 

“But of course, it’s to read this!” Kurapika displayed the tiny black text on his wrist to his friend. “These are the first words my soulmate will say to me-isn’t that cool?”

Pairo looked down at his own wrist. Despite his failing vision, he knew that he did not have the black text, but he pulled the sleeves of his tunic over his blank hand and turned to Kurapika, who was already roughly flipping through the thick book. “Okay, let’s see it then!” 

“Nothing? I...just didn’t…. expect the... chain-user? To be a woman.” Kurapika frowned at the foreign words scrawled over his wrist and the unassuming dictionary. “What does that mean? Is this dictionary outdated?” 

Pairo shrugged. “Don’t think so. The village elder acts like he is so against the outside world but I think he knows the importance of communicating with them.” 

Kurapika furrowed his eyebrows at the text, trying to decipher the meaning of the seemingly random words. “Huh…”

When Kurapika wasn’t looking, Pairo rubbed the bare skin of his own wrist, wondering why he didn’t have the same text as Kurapika and the rest of the clan’s adults had. 

Unbeknownst to him, Pairo would never live long enough to meet his soulmate.

  
  


* * *

**22, 14**

Chrollo had pushed his interest in his soulmate to the back of his mind ever since he formed the spiders. 

He didn't feel the need to look for a soulmate when he already felt so at peace without one, and the neat text on his hand became a no more than a meaningless birthmark.

* * *

**25, 17**

Kurapika was well aware of his effeminate appearance. He was also well aware of his ultimate goal-taking revenge on the Phantom Troupe and avenging his clansmen. 

When Izunavi asked Kurapika what he wanted to conjure with nen, Kurapika thought of chains immediately. 

No, it definitely had nothing to do with the chain-user mentioned in his soulmate's first words to him. And it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Kurapika was well aware that he was probably going to end up being the womanly chain-user mentioned.

* * *

**26, 18**

“A number of the enemy were injured,” Kurapika said as the car sped along on the highway. “So they’ll stay put until backup arrives.” His hands tightened around the chains restraining the Spider leader. 

Kurapika felt the distinct watch of eyes on his skull and turned to look at the man next to him. “What are you looking at?”

For just a split second, Kurapika could’ve sworn the man’s eyes widened in shock, but it quickly disappeared behind a thin facade of calm. “Nothing. I just didn’t think the chain-user would be a woman.”

Kurapika stopped breathing. 

**No**. No, no, no, no, no, no. 

This couldn’t be real. This…monster of a man couldn’t possibly be his soulmate. 

Melody looked at Kurapika through the rearview mirrors in concern. Certainly, if anyone had a grasp on the situation it would be her.

The man stared at him blankly. Did he realize it too? Or was this a cruel trick? 

Sure, Kurapika couldn’t deny that he made numerous predictions of what type of person his soulmate could be, the most common being his employers, fellow employees or other people in the Hunter Association, perhaps. But none of them even came close to a member of the Phantom Troupe. 

Let alone its leader. 

Kurapika really wished he didn’t see when the Spider shifted his hands, sleeve hitching just enough to reveal the words _What are you looking at?_ clearly printed onto his wrist. 

That was enough confirmation.

He took a slow, steady breath and forced himself to remain still, even though all he wanted to do was bolt out of the car and get as far away as possible. The spider must’ve been aware of the situation if his intent gaze on Kurapika’s sleeve was any clue. 

“Did I say that I was?” Kurapika answered hastily as he removed his wig and the pin holding his hair under it, and somehow his voice and movements came out steady. “You shouldn’t let appearances deceive you.” 

The man opened his mouth as if to inquire further but Kurapika tightened the chains on him and sent him a warning glare. 

He raised an eyebrow at Kurapika but remained silent. 

* * *

“Do you need a moment? With him.”

Kurapika managed a smile at Melody, who looked extremely worried. They still had time before Pakunoda was due to arrive. “Thank you, Melody.”

Melody patted his arm comfortingly and ushered Leorio out of the room with her.

The man turned to him. “You’re my soulmate.” 

Kurapika’s body tensed at the word. He hated it. He was dead set on his goals and didn’t want a soulmate. But if he were to have one, the last person he’d want is this...man. “Don’t say that. I will never think of you as my soulmate. I would rather die.”

“My name is Chrollo, what’s yours?” Chrollo ignored him. 

“Shut up! We are not on speaking terms. This,” Kurapika gestured to their hands, “has nothing to do with how I intend to live my life. I’d kill you if I could.”

Chrollo raised an eyebrow. “You know what happens to people when their soulmates die.”

Kurapika bit his lip. He knew exactly what happened to them-reduced to shells of their former selves, forced into a permanent depression. “Yes, which is why I won’t kill you.” He clenched his fist and felt cold chains digging into his palm. “You took everything from me. Why does it have to be you?”

“I don’t know. I suppose the universe has cruel ways to punish us.” Chrollo’s gaze almost seemed to intensify. “But I feel like you’re punishing yourself.”

“What would _you_ know of punishment?” Kurapika’s vision went red. “You do whatever you want and you never deal with the consequences!”

“You-”

“When you murdered all of Kurta clan, did you think about punishment? Did you even spare a thought for the pain you would cause us? Or was the allure of gold and scarlet eyes all you cared about?”

Chrollo’s stare remained unwavering. “I see. So you’re a survivor of the Kurta.” He sighed and the gesture seemed so nonchalant and casual despite the chains wrapped around the man that Kurapika felt the urge to punch him. “I didn’t think there would be a survivor-otherwise I would’ve hunted you down and kill you too.”

Kurapika felt himself tremble. “You _son_ of a-”

“But wouldn’t it have been better that way?” Chrollo’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “You wouldn’t have to go through all this pain to avenge your clan. You could just be with them in death."

Kurapika’s breath hitched. He _had_ thought of it multiple times. The underlying guilt of being the only remaining Kurta and the crushing responsibility to honor his clan the best he could sometimes made him wish he didn’t survive. 

It scared him. That a part of him was selfish and didn’t want him to dedicate his life to the dead. 

Chrollo had an almost smug look on his face, studying Kurapika’s face with an astute gleam in his eyes. “Am I wrong?”

Kurapika turned away from Chrollo’s intense scrutiny. “I won’t kill you. But I won’t be with you either. I have a responsibility to lay my clansmen’s eyes to rest.”

“Then I wish you luck.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrollo wants to get closer. Kurapika wants to get away.

* * *

**29, 21**

The next time Chrollo saw his soulmate was at a banquet aboard the Black Whale. By then, he had already learned his name; the spiders had automatically filled him in on every detail he missed upon his absence.

Kurapika was his name. A cute name with a nice ring to it. It didn’t match his facial expression when he caught Chrollo’s eye from across the ballroom. 

Something gave Chrollo the urge to approach the young man, and Chrollo swiftly made his way across the room in a matter of seconds, while Kuapika looked mildly panicked. 

His emotions were much better hidden than when Chrollo had last seen him but Chrollo had been reading people for long enough to see anxiety in the flicker of Kurapika’s eyes and the way his lips tensed _just_ a bit. 

“Kurapika. It’s been a while.” Chrollo offered a civil smile.

Kurapika brushed him off and walked past the man. “Don’t play your tricks on me. I have a job to do.” 

“No death-threats? Perhaps I am dreaming. Or are we finally making progress?”

Kurapika turned around and Chrollo noted the way his eyes glowed a faint red behind black colored contact lenses. “We are _not_ making progress. I simply have more pressing matters to deal with. Do not talk to me.”

Chrollo stepped closer and seized Kurapika’s sleeved arm. “Well, that’s too bad. I wanted to spend time with my soulmate.”

“Unhand me.” Chrollo felt Kurapika’s arm stiffen under his grip and he had the urge to just swoop the young man off his feet and carry him away from this stupid banquet. He _was_ quite attractive, after all. And interesting too.

“I’m a bodyguard for one of the princes here. It wouldn’t do well to disappear on the job. So unless you are going to help me, leave.”

Chrollo let go of Kurapika and took a respectful step away. “We have a goal of our own too. Hisoka is on this ship, and I’m going to kill him.”

Kurapika’s raised an eyebrow. “What did he do this time?”

“Murdered two of our spiders in cold blood.” Chrollo saw Kurapika give him a look. “Don’t worry, you beat Uvo fair and square, even if we were mad. But Hisoka just deserves to die.”

The older man smiled slowly. “I’ll make you a deal. You help us find Hisoka, we’ll protect your dear prince.” 

“And? Why should I trust you?”

“You know I can’t kill you. I also won’t kill any of your people. As long as we have an agreement, I’m a man of my word.”

Kurapika’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. “Is this just a ploy to spend time with me?”

Chrollo hummed. “Maybe. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have any ulterior motives too. I know what the 4th prince has in his possession.”

Kurapika paused, and Chrollo saw the turmoil flash in his facial expression before it was carefully schooled into neutrality again. 

“We have ourselves a deal.” Kurapika held his hand out, and Chrollo realized that this handshake was the first time he made physical contact with his soulmate (his hand was very warm and soft). “I guess I’ll hear from you soon.”

Chrollo nodded and watched as Kurapika turned around and walked away, quietly appreciating the way his backside moved as he walked.

It's only been 2 years since Chrollo had last seen him, but the chain-user felt different. He looked more like a young man and less like an angry teenager Chrollo would deem _too young to date_. But Chrollo knew what exhaustion looks like, and by the looks of it, Kurapika wouldn’t last long if he continues living like this. 

Chrollo let out a sigh. He supposed it was time to see what he could do about Kurapika’s little prince. 

He knew the chain-user wanted nothing to do with him. But Chrollo was invested in his little soulmate now, and he was a man who took what he wanted.

* * *

“Out.” Kurapika pointed to the door he just entered from. “We can talk anywhere but not in my room.” 

Chrollo was sitting patiently, cross-legged on Kurapika’s bed. “ Why?”

“I have no desire to be near you outside of work whatsoever, so I would rather not meet you in a personal place like my _room_.” Kurapika didn’t even want to know how the man found his room.

Chrollo’s eyes fluttered closed and he fell back onto the bed, and Kurapika wondered why he even bothered to argue in the first place. “At least get off my bed.”

“But,” Chrollo started, “there’s no other place to sit in this room. And I assumed this would be the most practical place for me to see you. It’s private, at least.”

_Which is precisely why I don’t want to see you here._ Kurapika stifled a groan and closed the door behind me. “Just this once. Now talk.”

Chrollo looked contented and sat back upright. “Room 1014 will be under the protection of at least 2 Phantom Troupe members twenty-four hours a day-as long as you help us search the upper tiers of the boat of Hisoka.”

“What do you need me to do specifically?” Kurapika’s throat felt dry.

“Look for anyone over 190 cm. Hisoka can change his appearance with texture surprise, but I’m sure he’s mingling around somewhere.”

“There are a lot of tall bodyguards in this area,” Kurapika noted. “And why can’t you do that yourself?” 

Chrollo sighed. “I could, but it wouldn’t be as discreet as an actual bodyguard doing it. Even if I’m going to be around here to keep my part of the deal, other people won’t remember seeing me before and they’ll get suspicious.” 

“Why are you so hell-bent on secrecy?” Kurapika pressed impatiently. “It’s not Hisoka is going to be everywhere at once. And you’re more powerful than him, aren’t you? I know you’ve got your nen back.”

Chrollo was silent, but his stare swiveled up to meet Kurapika’s.

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “I suppose you wouldn’t happen to have any shape-shifting abilities in your arsenal?”

“Actually,” Chrollo’s eyes gleamed with something suspiciously akin to amusement. “I do have something like that but I’m not obligated to tell you about it.”  
  


Kurapika felt like hitting something. “Well, if this conversation wasn’t for exchanging information, why are we even talking?”

“You haven’t given me any useful information,” Chrollo pointed out. “If we want to do this properly, you may as well start.”

Kurapika considered whipping out his judgment chain right away but he paused. If he didn’t say the right things, the Spider could get mad and he would lose his only chance to protect Queen Oito, but at the same time, if he wasn’t firm he could be double-crossed. And he really, really didn’t want to be naively double-crossed by someone who had already taken away everything he had to lose once. 

“Do you remember my judgment chain? This one,” he manifested his chains and let the chain on his pinky dangle free.

“How could I forget? It was inside me for months,” Chrollo stated and Kurapika thought he heard bitterness in the man’s quiet voice.

“Can I use it?” Kurapika asked slowly. “I’ll put one on myself too. I swear I’ll remove it after this.”

“Take a seat,” Chrollo said suddenly, scooting to one end of Kurapika’s bed. “This will be long, I’m afraid.”

Kurapika contemplated continuing to stand out of spite but decided that he no longer had any shits left to give and sat down across from Chrollo. “Is that a yes?”

“What condition will you be setting?” 

“Complete honesty. I don’t think we can get more fair than this.” Kurapika felt a numb pain in his chest. Negotiating with the person who orchestrated his clan’s massacre did not settle well in his stomach. 

Chrollo nodded. “Alright.” 

Kurapika shifted his eyes to scarlet for Emperor Time, acutely aware of Chrollo’s intent gaze on the glow behind his black contacts, and sent Judgement Chain plunging into his own heart first with a flick of his fingers. 

He set his sights on the man waiting patiently in front of him next and set a condition for him. This time, Chrollo didn’t flinch. “We can start now.”

“Is your nen ability limited to a condition?” Chrollo asked immediately.

“Which one?” Kurapika felt sweat pool at the back of his neck. 

“Chain jail.”

“I set a limitation so that I could only use it on the Spiders,” Kurapika said. “But don’t worry, I have little intentions to make a use for it now.”

Chrollo frowned. “Why do you wear contacts?”

“No, it’s my turn. What shape-shifting abilities do you have?”

“I have an ability called Convert Hands. I can switch appearances with someone else, but I can’t make a new appearance out of thin air.”

Kurapika pressed his lips together. “Then why didn’t you use that ability to find Hisoka?”

“Why do you wear contacts?” Chrollo pressed. “I like your eyes when they’re scarlet.”

“Because,” Kurapika started, trying to keep calm, “you made me into the only remaining member of an _extinct_ race and now I have to keep my Kuruta origins under wraps because _god_ knows how much another pair of eyes would cost on the black market.” 

Shit, that wasn’t calm at all.

If Chrollo was mad he didn’t show it and a childishly angry part of Kurapika wanted to smash his stupidly pale face in and flatten that unfairly pretty nose. “I see.”

There was a short, almost awkward pause and Kurapika’s mind fell fragilely blank.

He took a breath. “Why didn’t you use that ability to find Hisoka?”

“I fought Hisoka in Heaven’s Arena and he is aware of this ability. Besides, identifiable symbols appear on mine and the switched person’s hands so it’s not exactly discreet,” Chrollo said conversationally. “Would you like to try anyway?”

Kurapika almost said _no_ but curiosity gnawed at him and the coldness of the chain in him reminded him of their agreement. “Alright.”

Chrollo held out his palm, and a black leather book materialized on it. He flipped through the pages lightly and black and white marks appeared on the man’s hand. 

He looked back up at Kurapika. “Give me your hand.”

Holding out his hand, Chrollo’s pale fingertips lightly brushed against Kurapika's knuckles. “There.”

Kurapika looks up to see a perfect replica of himself staring back at him. “Wow.” He never realized how downright miserable he looked-dark circles, dry skin, unkempt hair and all. 

Chrollo smiled, and the expression looked foreign on Kurapika’s worn face. “Look at your hand.”

Arrows had appeared on his hand, reminiscent of a cheap tattoo Kurapika would never get for himself, and he frowned. “Can’t we just wear gloves to hide this, then?” Kurapika said, gesturing to his palm. 

“Again, it wouldn’t be discreet. But, if you wanted to, we could switch appearances for a day.” Without warning, Chrollo touched both of his hands on Kurapika’s. 

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like you right now?”

Chrollo nodded. “Have a look,” he said, gesturing to the little bathroom Kurapika had attached in his cabin. 

“Oh.” Kurapika stared at the reflection of Chrollo Lucilfer looking back at him in the little mirror above the sink in his bathroom. He touched his own face and watched as the Spider Head in the mirror followed his movements. It felt weird. And so, very wrong. 

A blonde man appeared next to Chrollo Lucilfer in the mirror and Kurapika numbly registers that as himself but with the real Chrollo inside. “How about it? Do you still think you’d like to switch bodies with me? You’d get to sleep. I know you must be lacking that, judging by the color of these eye-” 

“Fix this.” Kurapika pointed to the mirror.

Chrollo bowed his head shallowly in submission and closes his conjured book. His face abruptly returned to its original appearance, and Kurapika felt himself let out a shaky breath. “I suppose I’ll take that as a no.”

“No,” Kurapika started. Fuck, if he was actually going to ally himself with this despicable man, he may as well milk it for what it’s worth. “If one day I actually collapse from exhaustion or something, you should use it so people don’t get suspicious of my absence. And it wouldn’t make Oito seem weaker.” 

“Alright.” Chrollo stare shifted from Kurapika to the barren bathroom they were currently standing in, and Kurapika suddenly felt self-conscious of the very little toiletries he had in the space- a neutral bar of soap and small dental kit left on the sink was all he bothered to bring aboard the Black Whale (although his apartment was hardly better). 

“Why don’t you have anything in here-”

“Shut up. My bathroom is none of your concern,” Kurapika snapped, turning to leave the godforsaken room. 

His living habits were none of Chrollo’s business. And Kurapika intended to keep the man as far away from his private life as possible. 

* * *

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this rate, we'll get one update per month ha.  
> Still committed to finishing this fic, and I changed the number of chapters because nothing is happening yet and it's already been 2 chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically 80% characterization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip formatting.

_Never again,_ Kurapika told himself in the mirror- complete with pointed hand gestures. _After this, I’m never letting him creep into my life again._

Kurapika had felt _so_ stupid, sitting cross-legged across from the murderer of his clan on his bed like little girls at slumber parties telling horror stories. Except the horror story was real. It was his damn life.

He sighed and leaned over the innocent-looking sink of his bathroom, elbows resting on the sides. It was difficult to accept that the orchestrator of his family’s murder was also the person he belonged with- according to the damn universe anyway.

Even though it had been 3 years since Kurapika had met _him_ , he tried not to think about it as much as possible. Better to focus on his work. Better to focus on acquiring the eyes. Better to focus on putting his clansmen to rest- the same clan murdered by his soulmate. 

Most of the time, he couldn’t even bear to look at his soulmark. The night after the hostage exchange, Kurapika had bolted to the nearest store and bought the cheapest watch he could find to cover the damn thing. 

Then he had to substitute that for a classier, more expensive waterproof one, because Neon had whined about his watch being _trashy_ and _unsuitable for someone who is to be her bodyguard_. Granted, his duties in the Nostrade estate extended far beyond being merely a bodyguard, but the point was there and Kurapika hasn’t taken the slim black watch off since.

He was so _mad_. His parents, who always loved him so much, would never be able to see him as an adult. They would never be able to see him as more than a little boy. They never got to see him grow up. They never got to converse as adults. 

All because a certain man was selfish and took what he wanted. A man who Kurapika apparently belonged with.

He felt sick. Kurapika turned the knob on the sick and collected water in his palm to splash on his uncomfortably warm face.

Kurapika looked at himself in the mirror, soaking in the mirage of his sunken eyes, stiff shoulders and limp, dull blonde hair. He wasn’t mad, the young man realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He was mind-numbingly sad. 

* * *

“Danchou, I’ve come as you’ve requested.”

Chrollo tilted his head towards the woman. “Machi, I’ve spoken to Kurapika.”

Machi’s mouth twisted into a scowl at the mention of the chain-user’s name. Since when did Chrollo refer to that person by his _name_?

After the events of Greed Island, Chrollo had called an emergency meeting in the nearest town to the island- everyone had rushed over, eager to speak with their Danchou again, but he just ended up talking about his controversial soulmate for 2 hours and instructing them not to hurt _the chain-user_ to the confused and later hesitantly accepting reactions of the troupe. Machi herself had been a continent away before the meeting and she had to hijack a carrier airship just to get there in time, picking up Phinks and Kortopi along the line. 

Her chest stung at the thought of Kortopi. Kortopi, who was one of their more recent recruits, never spoke much but his skills always proved invaluable to the troupe’s heists. And although she was never particularly close to the little man, she hated how powerless she was in preventing his vainful death. 

“We’ve made a deal,” Chrollo continued after the pause and Machi’s heart sank. Chrollo had never wavered as a leader before, and under normal circumstances Machi knows that Chrollo always made intelligent decisions. But under what circumstance would working with the _chain-user_ be an intelligent decision? 

The reactions at the emergency meeting Chrollo had called might’ve been strangely positive- after all, Chrollo didn’t choose his soulmate and it wasn’t his fault his soulmate also happened to have killed 2 spiders- but Machi doubted any of her fellow troupe members would be willing to work with the chain-user. And they were making decent progress on Hisoka without him anyway. 

“In exchange for information on Hisoka, we’ll be alternating on looking after the 14th prince in shifts. No one is allowed to harm the prince or her associates in any way,” Chrollo said quietly. “I trust you to refer this to the rest of the spiders.” 

Machi thought that this was a terrible idea and that something seemed strangely _off_ about the Spider head. He wasn’t thinking properly. He hasn’t even noticed that Machi had been staring at him without a response for nearly a minute now. 

She knew she had sharp instincts, both Chrollo and Hisoka had acknowledged this before. And right now her instincts were screaming at her that Chrollo was muddled, his normally exceptional decision-making skills gone. 

But for some reason, Machi didn’t get that tingling feeling in her spine when something life-threatening was about to happen and she trusted that whatever situation Chrollo was about to blindly lead them into was going to end up alright.

“Yes, Danchou,” Machi finally answered, tearing her eyes away from the man in question, who still looked lost in thought. She gets a light nod of acknowledgment in response- and excused herself quietly. 

* * *

The water in the bathtub was getting cold. 

Chrollo shifted in the tub, sloshing water over the sides. He felt...light. Like he was in a trance. He could see his blurred reflection vaguely on the water’s rippling surface and Chrollo couldn’t help seeing Kurapika’s frowning face in his own from their convert hands endeavour a night ago. 

Chrollo never felt guilt for the lives he took. Even now, he didn’t feel anything about orchestrating the murder of Kurapika’s clansmen. It was simply a fact of life- Chrollo breathed, Chrollo showered, Chrollo murdered his soulmate’s entire family about 9 years ago. 

His _soulmate_. Years ago he might’ve felt nothing to see his soulmate spiraling into an episode of revenge and loathing towards Chrollo, but now he felt it. 

He felt the same way towards Hisoka. He _hated_ how Hisoka had to target his comrades, hated how Hisoka’s grudge was towards him, not towards his spiders and yet he had to go and rob them away from Chrollo anyway. But unlike treasures, people’s lives couldn’t be stolen back. He had lost Shalnark and Kortopi for good. All because they were vulnerable-vulnerable because of him. What kind of thief would he be if he couldn’t protect his treasures?

No, Shalnark and Kortopi weren’t treasures. They were family.

_Oh_ , so _that’s_ why Kurapika hates him so much. 

Chrollo turned over his wrist, reading the words on his skin like a mantra. _What are you looking at?_ was such a simple question but it seemed so much more significant now. Kurapika, felt much more significant now.

It was probably the placebo effect. You realize that someone’s your soulmate, you try to get closer to them, and then you fall in love. Then you say it’s because they were your designated soulmate. 

But Chrollo didn’t care anymore. Even if it was the placebo effect, he couldn’t deny that something about Kurapika made him want to get even closer. 

Maybe it was because of their little experiment with Convert Hands earlier, but Chrollo was slowly starting to see more and more of himself in Kurapika. Or perhaps it was the other way around? He didn’t know. 

Lately, he hasn’t been knowing much. 

* * *

  
  


That night, Kurapika found himself scouring the internet for videos of Chrollo and Hisoka’s deathmatch. It wasn’t very difficult by any means- the fight was very well captured despite its destructiveness and many videos of the fight were going viral. 

Truth be told, Kurapika had seen a few videos already, it’s how he knew that Chrollo had shapeshifting abilities, but he wanted to hear it explained from Chrollo’s mouth himself. Most of the nen abilities used in the videos happened in quick succession, and despite the quality of the footage Kurapika had to pause and zoom many parts just to get a sense of what was going on. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by the Spider’s flexibility and strategy in battle. Chrollo had stayed a step ahead of Hisoka throughout the entire fight, despite the latter being a prodigy himself. Kurapika knew, having gotten the chance to fight Hisoka first hand, despite it being years ago and admittedly wasn’t that serious. 

Fuck, these people were leagues ahead of him while Kurapika had to stake his life on nen conditions just to get a bit of power. 

There was a knock at the door and a gruff voice piped up behind it, “Kurapika, the queen wants to talk to you.”

Kurapika snapped his head up from his brooding position on the bed. “I’ll be there, Bill.”

* * *

The young queen was seated with her baby on her lap, looking evenly at Kurapika as he approached. “Kurapika, sorry to call you so abruptly."

"It's fine," he quickly said, eyes swiveling down to meet Woble's curious stare. Kurapika felt warmth bloom in his chest but he suppressed his smile. He had to stay professional, damn it!

Oito probably noticed him but she kept talking, "A few minutes ago a young man approached our room and requested to speak to me. Kurapika, are you acquainted with the leader of the Phantom Troupe?"

Kurapika felt himself go rigid from the back of his neck to the tip of his toes.

He completely forgot to set a date with Chrollo and now the man’s gone ahead with the deal without him. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

Kurapika snapped himself out of his swearing mantra to give the queen a quick response, “Yes, your highness.”

Oito looked at him expectedly. _Please elaborate._

“The Phantom Troupe is currently hunting a man on this boat,” Kurapika continued carefully, mindlessly folding his hands over themselves to cover the watch on his wrist. “In exchange for my cooperation, the spider leader has agreed to aid in protecting this room and its inhabitants.” 

Sensing Oito’s unease, Kurapika promptly bowed his body down to his waist. “Your highness, please remember that everything I do is in the best interest of you and your daughter. I can assure you that I, as well as none of the spiders, will ever hurt you.”

He knew that Oito must’ve noticed his hand covering the watch but he couldn’t bear to think about its implications, couldn’t bear to think about how he was related to the leader of the Phantom Troupe. 

As if on cue, the queen spoke up, “Kurapika, how are you related to this man?”

Kurapika jolted like he was having a stroke, and he raised his body from the bow to meet Oito’s eye sadly. “I… would prefer not to speak about this.”

Oito’s gaze softened and she almost seemed apologetic, although the way she eyed Kurapika’s watch made it fairly clear that she’s already figured out a possibility in her head that was probably at least 80% correct. She was smarter than the majority gave her credit for, anyway. “Alright.” 

The queen rose from her seat and cradled Woble in her arms, giving Kurapika a little glance before handing the cooing baby to him promptly. “If you won’t open up, I will. Take a seat.”

Kurapika sat down on a different chair next to Oito and waited tensely for whatever she was going to say next while Woble reached for his hair and started crumpling it happily. 

“My soulmate” - fuck, Kurapika hated that word- “was a boy in Meteor City. I met him when I was 6.” Oito turned to Kurapika and offered him a sad-looking smile. “We didn’t meet under the best circumstances. He was stealing from the meager food supply my family had kept in the winter. I only realized that he was my soulmate when I pleaded to him not to take the bread and he stared at me in shock.”

Oito shifted in her seat and her eyes grew distant and cloudy. “He told me that the words on his wrist matched what I said but I had no idea what he was talking about and by then, my parents already noticed the boy. They were livid that our food was stolen and they made me stay behind while they chased after him.”

Kurapika doesn’t know why Oito thinks that telling her life story was going to make Kurapika open up about his but he listens and nods anyway.

“I don’t know what happened to him after that. But as you can see…” Oito holds up her arm and pulls down the sleeve of her robe, revealing pale, unmarked skin. _Unmarked_ skin. 

Kurapika’s eyes widened in recognition. That boy is dead.

“I don’t know when it happened or how it did. But I do know that I felt exactly the same before and after the whole ordeal. I had no connection to my soulmate whatsoever. Now look at me,” Oito chuckled quietly, “I’m the 8th wife of a rich king of an empire somewhere and now my infant daughter’s being entered in a deadly contest.”

Oito turns to Kurapika, who was currently losing hair over Woble’s persistent tugging, and meets his gaze levelly. “The point is, Kurapika, I might not be much older than you. But my soulmate is dead and I’m still married and at some point, I guess I truly was happy being with Nasubi. I still don’t know what your relation to the man earlier was but I can guess that it’s not good. So, as a reasonably more experienced person than you, I am telling you now that you have options and soulmates aren’t the be-all-end-all of the universe.” 

Kurapika stares blankly at the queen, barely registering her words. His skull was really starting to hurt, and he snaps out of his stupid trance to gently pry Woble’s hands off his hair and give her his chained-covered hand to play with instead. “I... used to be very into the idea of soulmates,” he admitted quietly but shut himself up before he revealed any more sensitive information that’ll trigger another existential crisis the moment he gets back to his cabin.

“I suppose the effect of soulmates is different for everyone,” Oito states. “But I suppose they’re only as dramatic as you make them out to be.” 

* * *

Kurapika was fucked. Ever since he’s had that conversation with Oito, he’s been wide awake clutching at the bedsheets like a gremlin, blood pounding in his ears. 

_Of course_ he knew that soulmates weren’t all that serious. Of course…

He didn’t want to admit that he spent half a day going insane over something he thought was out of his control when it was alright all along. _So what_ if Chrollo was his soulmate? _So what_ if the universe thought they should be together? Fuck the universe. Yeah. 

Kurapika didn’t think of Chrollo’s pale hands brushing his or his quiet, charismatic voice or his stupidly pretty nose. Fuck, what’s wrong with him? He bet it’s Woble. The baby’s always had a strange effect on him. He started to give less fucks about his shitty life when he has a cute baby girl in his arms. 

Mumbling incoherent thoughts to himself, Kurapika started to drift into a feverish sleep. 

* * *

The first thing that Chrollo registered when he lockpicked his way into Kurapika’s room that morning was the soft sound of snoring and the lithe form buried under the blankets. 

Other than the painful squeezing in his chest at the sight of the epicentre of all his emotional musings, Chrollo supposed he could get used to this sight. The younger man looked far more, well, young when he didn’t look like he wanted to kill Chrollo at the very sight of him.

Chrollo made an impulse decision and manifested his Convert hands ability. Kurapika deserved a little more rest, he decided. 

* * *

Kurapika woke up feeling more refreshed and clear headed than he had been in weeks. The pounding in his head was gone. The ache in his neck that had been plaguing his movements all day yesterday was gone. The headache stabbing into his skull was gone. 

Wait. 

Kurapika pounced out of bed and reached for his phone. _12:24._

His work hours started at 7.30. 

What the fuck. How was he not fired by now?

Kurapika felt his heart bpm start to accelerate, and he quickly yanked open his closet door and stuffed his arms into his dress shirt when his shoulder got stuck in the middle of the shirt and Kurapika was left wondering if he had gotten fatter overnight. 

His shoulders no longer fit into the S-sized dress shirt. Kurapika peered down his chest and realized that he looked far more toned and buff than before (which still isn’t that buff because Kurapika is quite lean). 

Curiously, Kurapika opened his bathroom door and almost had a heart attack when he saw the face of Chrollo Lucilfer staring back at him, the shock gripping his body mirrored on the, _well_ , mirror. 

What the fuck. 

It took a few seconds, but Kurapika realized that the Spider Head must’ve used the stupid shapeshifting ability he had- the arrows on his hand confirmed that- and he wanted to scream. Who the fuck switches bodies with someone else without asking their consent first? 

Then Kurapika remembered that he gave Chrollo explicit permission to do so a few nights ago and he cursed himself for his dumbass decision. 

No more moping, Kurapika told himself, and he quickly flung on the largest article of clothing he owned (an oversized t-shirt he accidentally took from Leorio back in Yorknew) before rushing out the door. 

* * *

Chrollo was having a good time pretending to be serious and constantly angry in an excellent impersonation of Kurapika when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and wondered why he was wearing such an ugly t-shirt when he realized that his reflection was coming closer to him and _oh_.

That’s Kurapika in Chrollo’s appearance. 

Chrollo quickly smoothed down the confusion in his face, and he glanced at Kurapika. “Lucilfer,” he greeted icily at his own face. 

Kurapika looked far too angry to be a convincing version of Chrollo- Chrollo believed himself to be a much better actor- but no one in the room had been alerted of their little endeavor yet. Bill was watching them curiously, probably judging the informal attire of the supposed Spider Head, but Queen Oito was still nursing her baby in the bedroom. 

Kurapika forced a smile onto his new face. “Kurapika. Come with me, please.”

And Chrollo let himself be dragged into Kurapika’s cabin, noting Bill’s eyebrows which were shooting up past his hairline at the forceful way the supposed Spider Head was pulling the supposed young bodyguard into Kurapika’s room. 

The door shut, and Kurapika whipped around, pointing a finger accusing at Chrollo. “What the fuck?”

“What do you mean?” Chrollo stifled a smile. 

Kurapika looked like he was about to argue but he closed his mouth and shook his head. “Fix this please,” he finally said, holding out his hand.

Chrollo gladly obliged. “Of course.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took 2 months and that's kinda depressing. 
> 
> Next chapter concludes their black whale adventures! We're over halfway now.
> 
> Thank you so much to the people on the KuroKura discord who prevented me from making dumb plot choices and petty writing mistakes!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Black Whale Arc.

* * *

That day had ended uneventfully asides from Bill whispering “ _an acquaintance, huh?_ ” the moment Chrollo left the room. 

He got a well-deserved jab on the side. 

* * *

Kurapika spended the following days planning his attack on Tserriednich with Chrollo while the latter periodically guarded the 14th prince’s room. 

The hunt for Hisoka continued on without a hitch, and soon enough, Chrollo got to hold the mangled head of the bastard clown- this time he had crushed the skull completely and had Machi violently disember every limb and organ of Hisoka’s body. 

There would be no more miracle nen resurrections for the clown, Chrollo thought with a satisfied smile. 

* * *

Weeks later, Kurapika found himself standing in front of the fourth prince, Tserriednich, the shelf of scarlet eyes and the head of Pairo staring straight back at him. 

Rage. It was all he felt. 

Kurapika saw red and he knew his eyes were scarlet, judging by Tserriednich’s intrigued expression. 

It didn’t matter. He didn’t even bother to wear his contacts today because they weren’t going to leave any survivors in the fourth prince’s room. 

The prince’s lips curled into a sneer and his gaze raked across Kurapika’s face. “A Kurta, huh? Didn’t know Oito was hiding one from-”

Kurapika didn’t hear the end of his sentence. The man was dead in seconds, his head slumping to reveal a pen stabbed into the back of his head and Chrollo standing behind him with an unreadable expression. 

Chrollo released his hold on the pen. “He’s dead.” 

Kurapika barely heard the man’s words. His eyes were fixed on the blood seeping slowly out of Tserriednich’s skull, dripping over his blonde hair. 

“Kurapika!” Chrollo was in front of him now, hands clasped on both of his shoulders. “He’s dead! Stop looking at him like you want to kill him.”

Kurapika barely glanced at Chrollo, unable to force any words out of his throat. He felt like he was falling, like all the weight in his body had sunk to his feet and he couldn’t see anything except for Pairo’s face staring back at him, frozen in a blank expression. 

Sound. Someone was speaking. He could vaguely register the weight of someone’s hands resting on his shoulders.

“Kurapika, _get a hold of yourself_.”

_Snap_ . Kurapika glared up at Chrollo and he _knew_ that words would come out now. “He was my best friend!” The younger man scrambled to the glass encasing Pairo’s disembodied head. “Pairo!”

Hands palming at the cold glass, Kurapika felt wetness on his cheeks. “Why him, of all people?” 

“Why? Pairo? We were going to find our soulmates together. We were going to explore the world together. I didn’t find your corpse. I thought you might have survived. Even after all these years....” Kurapika couldn’t control the erratic trembling of his shoulders and the way his heart felt like it was emptying the longer he was staring into Pairo’s dead unseeing eyes. 

Chrollo didn’t expect to feel a pang in his chest at the sight of Kurapika. He was the one responsible for Pairo’s death, after all. 

But pain never came from death, it was from those who had been left behind, and after all the deaths of his spiders, Chrollo felt like he could somewhat understand Kurapika’s pain.

Before Chrollo could say something, however, he found himself dodging a chain that was aimed straight towards his heart. 

“You…!” Kurapika’s eyes were flooding, the water droplets catching a scarlet gleam before sliding down his cheeks. “Why did you keep Pairo’s head? Was plucking out his eyes not enough? Did the fact that he already didn’t have sight bore you so you had to behead him?” 

“Kurapika-” Chrollo was cut off by Kurapika’s fist swinging into his face. 

“Monster! You- Why did it have to be you?” Kurapika’s attacks were getting sloppy but Chrollo doesn’t feel like dodging or blocking the half-hearted punches until Kurapika tackled Chrollo to the ground and Chrollo grabbed his wrist to stop him from further damaging his face. “Why are you my _soulmate_?” Kurapika almost whispered. 

“Kurapika,” he started, meeting Kurapika’s watery eyes, “ _you_ know that I didn’t orchestrate the Kurta Massacre, don’t you? It was all ordered from the higher-ups of Meteor City, the beheading of certain people included. The note, remember? ‘ _We'll accept anything you leave here, but don't ever take anything away from us’”._

The younger man opened his mouth to retaliate but closed it with a sigh of resignation. “Of course I knew about the note...”

“You’re intelligent, Kurapika,” Chrollo admitted, pushing Kurapika off of him and guiding them both into a sitting position on the cold floor. “But as a child, you probably didn’t think past the Phantom Troupe when blaming someone for the murder of your people. We became the outlet of your growing rage while the real masterminds of the massacre escaped your attention.”

Kurapika’s shoulders slumped, and his face looked like it was drained of all blood. “I did put it together at some point. After I learned of the existence of Meteor City, their motto stood out to me right away...I’m so stupid, goddamn.”

Chrollo felt pained. “Kurapika...you’re not stupid. You are quite possibly one of the brightest people I know. And at your age, you will only evolve.” He stood up, brushing off imaginary dust from his immaculate dark slacks before offering Kurapika a hand. “Live, Kurapika. Even if all your loved ones are dead, you can only keep moving forward in their memory.” 

“I hate how ironic it is that you are the one to tell me that,” Kurapika said after a while, but he accepted Chrollo’s hand anyway. 

“You would actually be stupid if you think that I haven’t lost anyone before. I’ve lost countless spiders, some to you even, and it’s never an easy ordeal.” Chrollo manifested his nen and opened to the page with Fun Fun cloth. “We need to go before the other rooms realize what we’ve done.”

“Two lives don’t even out my 128 clan members,” Kurapika said coldly, ignoring the last statement. 

Chrollo swept the cloth over the canisters of Scarlet Eyes and Pairo’s head, storing them inside the thin cloth quickly. “But those two lives meant the world to me. They were the founding spiders, my original group from Meteor City. Being able to see them or hear them is something I can never have again. I’m making peace with this.” 

“Then why kill Hisoka?” Kurapika continued to question as Chrollo slipped a bookmark into his nen book on the page for Fun Fun cloth and flipped through the pages for his teleportation ability. 

“Hisoka was different. He’s volatile, impulsive. He would not stop at killing 2 of my spiders. He was going to destroy them all, even though his grudge was against me. In order to protect myself and my spiders, I killed him.” Chrollo paused, an unintelligible look on his face. 

“But you’re not like him. I trust that you would be able to make peace with your clan members too.” Chrollo stopped flipping in his book and Kurapika vaguely registered suddenly being transported out of the Fourth Prince’s garishly luxurious room and into his own humble cabin. 

Chrollo manifested the Scarlet Eyes and Pairo’s head on the floor of Kurapika’s room before stepping closer to him. 

“Take the last pairs of eyes, Kurapika. And your friend’s head. And conduct a proper burial for them. Then live the life you’ve always intended to live. Doing what you want in life doesn’t necessarily mean you are leaving them behind.” 

“Chrollo,” Kurapika started, and he willed his voice not to shake. “How can you even say this to me? Do you even have the right to tell me to be happy when you are the only reason my life is like this?”

Chrollo chuckled. “Definitely not. We both know I don’t regret it. We both know you despise me.” 

Kurapika wasn’t even sure if that was the case anymore. 

“But I don’t despise you.” Chrollo snapped his nen book closed and turned to leave. “This battle is over and so is our deal. My excuse to spend time with you is no longer usable, I’m afraid, so I’ll make myself scarce. But if you ever change your mind...my number is in your phone.”

“Since when?”

“Since 20 seconds ago.”

Kurapika felt around his front pocket for his phone, which had somehow disappeared and was in the spider head’s waving hand instead. 

Chrollo’s face did something that almost looked like a genuine smile and he placed the phone on Kurapika’s bed. “Goodbye, Kurapika.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally off the boat! This work was originally supposed to be 3 chapters long, but we all know how that turned out. The next chapter is what I've been wanting to write since starting the story so come back in like another month lol.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited fic finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said I would update in a month?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1ZZhb-bmWY 
> 
> Age numbers are back, the number on the left is Chrollo, the number on the right is Kurapika.
> 
> I've done some research on the locations in the Hunter x Hunter universe and basically found that  
> Yorknew City = New York City (obviously, just by the name)  
> Swardani City, the center of the Hunter Association = Tokyo (according to the screenshots from the anime and manga, many places in that city are based off of real-life locations in Tokyo so that is the conclusion I've come to)
> 
> This doesn't mean that they are the exact same place but it's nice to know as a comparison, especially for context in this chapter.

* * *

**30, 22**

Kurapika was good at denying himself. Over the past 4 years of his life, he denied himself almost everything in order to collect the Scarlet Eyes. 

Compromising his morals, bribery, straight up theft, murder, Kurapika’s done it all. For the sake of his people, he would fall a million times over. 

So why does he feel so empty?

Kurapika had already collected all the eyes. He’s even found the decapitated head of his former best friend. He’s survived a voyage to the Dark Continent and back, he’s made the trip across multiple continents to get back to Lukso, he’s even trekked through dense vegetation with a giant suitcase full of dozens of glass canisters for a week to get to his village (he had to be very careful because the total value of the suitcase’ contents could probably buy him a small nation) . 

He’d borrow Chrollo’s Fun Fun Cloth to store the eyes but his steal chain ability requires Emperor Time and it would never last long enough. Or at least that’s what Kurapika told himself. It’s not like he wanted to use Chrollo anymore. Their mutual agreement had come to an end. Right?

Kurapika would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to send the man a call. Or a text, even. The fact that Chrollo’s number has remained in his phone undeleted after all this time was proof of that. 

After the events of the Dark Continent and Tsseriednich’s death, Kurapika had sworn not to contact his soulmate again, no matter how difficult it was (they were soulmates for a reason, after all). It would be a dishonor to his clan if he actively sought out the man who orchestrated their massacre, right? 

But he’s already buried the eyes. He’s already arranged all the canisters and Pairo’s head in a neat circle in the hole he dug with his chains and covered it with soft earth and leaves from the trees he used to play in. He’s already said his prayers and cried and planted flowers- orchids and lilies, his mother’s favorites- and watered them. He’s already had his closure. He could probably die happily now, his life’s goal completed.

...Even so, he wanted to live. He wanted to feel the sun shining on his face, he wanted to see Gon and Killua grow up, he wanted to be there when Leorio graduated from medical school, he wanted to meet Killua’s sister, he-.

He wanted to see Chrollo again. 

He wanted to hear the man’s smooth voice, he wanted to feel the warmth of pale fingers brushing his knuckles, he wanted to see the man’s little smile after a sip of premium espresso, wanted to have long conversations about all the books they never got to discuss. 

If Pairo were alive, what would he say? Would he encourage Kurapika to go after Chrollo? To send a text, or call the man? Or would he be angry at Kurapika for spending time with their clan’s murderer so casually?

Kurapika sighed. The hotel room he’d been staying at for the past week was getting messy. 

After he buried the eyes, Kurapika had forced himself to leave to prevent himself from lingering forever at his parent’s old house. He abandoned the giant suitcase in his old house and bolted out of the jungle in a few days. 

At first, Kurapika just needed a place with electricity to charge his phone and check up on his mafia contacts. But he eventually made the decision to get as far away from Lukso as he could because all the motels in the area were the same places that he had once gone to when he was a broken child who just found out that everyone he loved was dead; it gave him shitty memories. 

So here he was, in a luxury hotel room in Yorknew, the city where it all started. Although the last time he was here, Kurapika had been an angry teenager with far less wealth and had stayed in a little rented apartment with his friends. 

Normally, Kurapika would be reluctant to spend a lot of money if he could help it. Heck, he only ever used a lot of money on bribes to shut people up or to give him information. But the situation was hardly normal. 

After this, Kurapika was determined to leave behind his dirty life in the mafia and tie up all loose ends with his contacts. He was going to get into contact with Gon and Killua again and visit Leorio. He was going to make a new home for himself in a new continent. 

And most importantly, he was going to call his soulmate and tell him the truth about his own feelings. 

After all, what’s the point of giving closure to your dead people when you won’t allow yourself to be happy? 

With that thought in mind, Kurapika pressed the call button on his smartphone. 

...Only to immediately press end and throw his phone onto his bed. 

Kurapika smashed his face into the pillow and let out a scream.

What would he even say? What if Chrollo was expecting him to call and he was just playing into the man’s expectations? What if he gets all smug and obnoxious? This is dumb, he’s acting like a lovesick teenager.

Kurapika took a deep breath. That was fine (it’s not like he’d had the chance to experience youthful love before anyway). Chrollo might’ve expected him to call. _But_ he probably expected Kurapika to be all shy and tsundere about it. So, if he wanted to stay one step ahead, all he had to do was be very blunt and direct about it.

With that, Kurapika worked up the courage to press call again.

“...Hello?” 

Kurapika swallowed. “ Chrollo. This is Kurapika.” 

There was a long pause and for a moment, Kurapika was worried that he had misunderstood and Chrollo really didn’t want him to call at all and this whole thing was just a big mistake, like most of his life so far. 

“Kurapika. I’m assuming this call means that you’ve already buried the eyes?”

Shit. He’s being read like an open book.

A deep breath. “That is true, but it’s not why I called.”

Kurapika could hear quiet jazz music in the background, like Chrollo was sitting at some high-end cafe and was leisurely sipping his saccharine espresso. It was slightly unsettling how casual this situation must be for him, while Kurapika was having a whole mental breakdown episode in his hotel room over the call. “Happy birthday. You must be 30 by now,” Kurapika added, slightly sarcastically. 

Chrollo quietly chuckled. “Indeed, I am. Happy birthday to you as well, 22 is no small number. Although I don’t think you called just to congratulate me on making it to the 30s.”

“That’s also true.” Kurapika clenched his fist. “I need to preface by saying that I hate what you did to my clansmen.”

Chrollo was silent.

“I hate how easily you take lives. I hate how casual you are about ruining some others. Just the thought of it makes me sick.”

A pause. Then, “Well, this is a heavy conversation to have at Starbucks.” 

“ _Don’t_ change the subject, Chrollo. You know very well that I am a better man than you, and I would never stoop to your level of moral disgrace. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends.”

“Friends?” Chrollo hollowly echoed.

Kurapika let out a dark laugh. “Soulmate thing aside, how can we be more than friends if we barely know each other? Don’t say that our alliance on the Black Whale counted because half of the time we were there I was plotting your murder and you were fully aware.” 

“True.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Chrollo. I’d like to see you again. That was the purpose of my call.”

There was a long pause.

Then, a quiet sigh. “Kurapika, if I didn’t want to see you again I wouldn’t have given you my real phone number.” 

* * *

After the difficult phone call was made, Kurapika found joy in telling all his mafia subordinates that he was quitting and to never contact him again. He also threw his work phone into a lake and bought a newer one. Better to be safe than sorry when dealing with nasty mafia goonies (even if most of his subordinates were handpicked to be as unproblematic as possible). Besides, it’s not like Kurapika had any debts or unresolved businesses with them. 

With that, Kurapika was free to contact Leorio, who had to frantically get back to school after the Black Whale voyage. The man was almost crying after Kurapika called him, muttering something about how he’s been trying to get in touch for months.

Gon and Killua had both finished their education and gotten learning certificates while Kurapika was on the Black Whale. Oito was raising Woble safely in the Kakin empire. All the scarlet eyes were found and buried. 

Kurapika was getting a new job in one of his non-mafia associate’s businesses- granted, he had no more desire to be a blacklist hunter when he was “acquainted” with an S-class bountied criminal and it’s not like he needed job qualifications for anything when all he had to do was flash his hunter license at the place for them to start offering lucrative positions to him. But money didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to be happy again.

So he chose a management job at a quiet library in the corners of Swardani City in order to be able to travel to the Hunter Association building if he was needed as a Zodiac member; he had almost forgotten that he was one because of how he basically disappeared after the Black Whale ordeal (but luckily Leorio said that the chairwoman was kind enough to understand and wouldn’t really penalize him). 

Even though the other employees at the librarian seemed a bit intimidated when they found out that he was a pro hunter and a Zodiac member to boot, Kurapika didn’t think he was going to have a bad time at the place (mostly because he had purposely chosen a very, very underrated library with books that even he had never been able to read in his life). 

In addition to reading as much as he could at his new workplace, Kurapika truly intended to write his own books on the Kurtan culture and language. Before all of his ethnicity could be erased with time, Kurapika wanted to preserve as much of it as he could in books and take full advantage of his influence in the Hunter Association to do so. He had come to terms with the fact that although his clansmen had been put to rest, his work as the sole survivor was far from over; even if it was hardly work when Kurapika could spend hours writing and reading just for his own personal enjoyment. 

With his new job down, Kurapika finally moved out of the hotel and found himself a comfortable apartment where he could easily house all his friends and culture his book collection (Chrollo had offered to lend him some books, but it’s not like he’s going to be accepting any offers from the despicable spider head any time soon). Even though money wasn't a big problem to the loaded young man, he still preferred a cozy apartment to a giant penthouse. After all, he didn't have a nasty fetish for excessive luxury like the despicable spider head did. 

Speaking of which, it was nearly time for Kurapika to meet with the man, he realized as he checked the time on his watch. With one last glance to his mirror, Kurapika heads out of his apartment. 

* * *

When Kurapika arrived at the high-end restaurant, his first observation was that Chrollo looked kinda...younger. His hair was no longer being slicked back by an abhorrent amount of gel, he got rid of that nasty headband, and he wasn't wearing an outfit that had crosses everywhere (Kurapika vaguely recalled Chrollo claiming to be an atheist). But the biggest difference was in the Spider's face.

He looked happy. Instead of dark circles standing out on pale skin, his cheeks were slightly rosy and a smile played on his plump lips. 

Which led Kurapika to believe that the man was, in fact, drunk. 

Kurapika snaps himself out of his stupor and takes a seat. "Hello, Chrolllo."

"Kurapika," Chrollo greeted him with a warm expression. "Have you set up your apartment?"

"Yes," Kurapika replied, taking the menu Chrollo offered and flipping to the entree section.

Chrollo gave him a look, and Kurapika quickly added, "No, you may not know the address. I do not need break-ins at random times of the day, and I don't think the place would suit your fancy anyway."

Chrollo sighed. "I haven't said anything."

Kurapika fought the urge to laugh at the Spider Head acting like some dejected little kid, despite the fact that it was quite obvious that the man was avoiding the heavy topic of their tumultuous past as much as possible. It was almost endearing.

Later that night, during a lull in the conversation, Kurapika's eyes caught sight of the ink on Chrollo's inner wrist as he lightly fingered the handle of his wine glass.

For a moment, Kurapika remembered the trauma he had relating to his own soulmark and was distinctly reminded of the tightness of the watch Neon forced him to buy years ago, still wrapped around his own wrist in the present. 

Terror gripped Kurapika's heart like a vice. What is he doing here at a candle-lit dinner with the person who exterminated his culture?

His discomfort must've shown on his face, because Chrollo spoke up immediately, "What's wrong?"

**No**. Chrollo didn't kill his clan. The man was obsessed with indigenous culture and history, why would he organize a full genocide of an isolated, endangered clan? 

The true perpertraters were the Meteor City officials. 

Instead of furiously murdering members of the Phantom Troupe and cracking his pristin morality bit by bit, Kurapika should’ve been uncovering the truth behind the massacre and making peace with the past. Did the Kurtan elders take something from Meteor City? Or is this from a conflict that happened long in the past? Kurapika could already think of many possibilities that he needed Chrollo to confirm.

Perhaps this was why Kurapika was forcibly drawn to Chrollo in the first place. As soulmates, they could never stay apart forever. 

This doesn’t mean that he would ever forgive the Spider Head, Kurapika decided. But maybe he had to set aside his initial hatred of the man in order to find out why his clan was truly murdered. Maybe his fate as the last Kurtan was already decided since the day he was born. As the sole survivor, he needed to find the truth. 

Then he could decide what to do with it later. 

"Chrollo," Kurapika started after the long pause, making sure the Spider's eyes were on him. 

"Tell me about the Kurtan massacre."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you don't even get a kiss. Sorry! This story is supposedly Kurokura but Kurapika would probably need another 20k words of slow burn before he would even hold hands with Chrollo.  
> This may get a continuation if I feel like it (probably not, I hate writing angst. I only wrote this because I've enjoyed so many amazing fics for this ship and I felt like it was only fair if I contribute something even if it's mediocre). I purposefully left the ending veryyyy ambiguous because this is basically non canon from after the manga so i didn't want to write too much (although at Togashi's manga writing rate, Kurapika would never reach his 22nd birthday). This fic might also undergo a major edit once I get the motivation (so like in a year), especially in the ending because I'm not wholeheartedly satisfied with it yet- I feel like it's a bit rushed and not a very satisfying ending to the story.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone from the Kurokura discord for the discussions on certain aspects of the ship and theories for the manga! This fic would not exist without your support!


End file.
